Chronicles of Britain: The Book of Three
by Transformers 0
Summary: This is my version of Lloyd Alexander's books and Disney's adaptation of them. This summary may suck, but the story won't. More info inside. IMPORTANT NOTE: Currently being re-written so that the story is closer to the original books.
1. Baby Found

**Hello, this is my first **_**Chronicles of Prydain**_** story, and I want you to know that I'm changing it a bit slightly.**

**Prydain is now Britain (the **_**Chronicles**_** were based on Welsh mythology and Prydain is the Welsh word for Britain).**

**There are other changes too, but I'll notify you of them when I get to the respective chapters.**

**My story is based on a mixture of the books and the movie, with a bit of my own creative ideas thrown in.**

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><p><span><strong>Chronicles of Britain: The Book of Three<strong>

**Baby Found**

_"I had an arduous start to my life – but it's better than a horrific end."_

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><p>A village erupts in flames. Screams are heard everywhere as villagers are burned to death. But this isn't a natural cause – it was caused by the soldiers of evil.<p>

In the middle of the village, watching it burn and observing all the chaos, a hooded figure stood menacingly.

"Find the Book of Three!" he snarled, "And with it, we will unlock the secrets to ruling the world!"

Screams echoed throughout the night.

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><p><em>"My story isn't the most easiest to tell. It is full of loss, grief, and hardship. This is how you truly become a hero. But my story doesn't exactly start here.<em>

_I was found in a battlefield, in the aftermath. I was taken in and raised by farmers."_

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><p>On a bloody field with corpses strewn all over the place, a soft crying comes from a baby boy.<p>

A farmer comes across and he picks the baby up, and walks off into the rising sun.

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><p><em>"I never thought my life would be worth anything, but everyone has the chance to become a hero and do something great. You have your life and you have the choice."<em>


	2. The Assistant Pig-Keeper

**The Assistant Pig-Keeper**

_**12 years later…**_

Dallben, who was 42 years of age, stared long and thoughtfully at the fireplace. He had short black hair that was starting to grey.

"There's something wrong! I can feel it in my bones," he shuddered, "Taran! Where are you lad?"

Taran, now 12, was staring out of one of the cottage's windows on the second floor. Britain's countryside was always something to marvel about. Just what adventures awaited him out there, somewhere far away!

"Taran, lad!" a voice called out. Taran leaned away from the window and rushed downstairs.

"Yes Dallben? What is it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be helping Coll make horseshoes today?" Dallben asked him.

"Yes sir, I'll get on it right away."

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><p>Taran had wanted to make a sword, but Coll, charged with the practical side of his education, decided on horseshoes. And so it had been horseshoes all morning long. Taran's arms ached, and soot had blackened his face. At last he dropped the hammer and turned to Coll, who was watching him critically.<p>

Coll was a retired knight, aged 44, and had orange hair that was now half-grey. He now worked as a blacksmith and was one of Taran's guardians and mentors, the other being Dallben.

"I could do better at making a sword!" Taran protested loudly, "I know I could!"

And before Coll could answer, Taran snatched up some tongs, flung a strip of red-hot iron onto the anvil, and began hammering away as fast as he could.

"I believe in speed and power!" he chanted to himself, "Power and speed solves many things!"

"Wait, wait!" cried Coll, "That is not the way to do it!"

But Taran paid no attention and pounded harder than ever. Sparks sprayed the air. But the more he pounded, the more the metal twisted and buckled, until finally the iron sprang from the tongs and fell to the ground. Taran stared in dismay. With the tongs, he picked up the bent iron and examined it. It was dented and mangled.

"Not quite the blade for a hero," Coll remarked dryly.

"It's ruined," said Taran glumly, "And it looks like a sick snake."

"As I tried to tell you," said Coll gently, "You had it all wrong. You must hold the tongs as if they were an extension of your hand. When you strike with the hammer, the strength – or should I say power – must flow from your shoulder and your wrist must be loose. You can _feel_ it when you do it right. Besides, this is not the metal for weapons."

Coll returned the crooked, half-formed blade to the furnace.

"I wish I might have my own sword," Taran sighed, "And then you would be able to teach me sword-fighting. I want to fight in a battle and do some good before the war ends."

"And why would you want to do that?" asked Coll, "War isn't a game, lad. People get hurt… or worse. And besides, you're still a child."

"You and Dallben wouldn't understand," Taran sighed sadly, "I'm not a little boy anymore! I should be doing heroic deeds for Britain! I want to be a hero!"

"Everyone will get their own chance to be a hero, lad," Coll said gently, "But you must keep your focus on the here and now."

"At least teach me some sword-fighting!" pleaded Taran, "You must be a master of the art!"

"Aye, that's true," Coll smiled, "I _was_ a knight in shining armour back in the day."

"Please teach me now!" pleaded Taran. He rushed outside and seized a thin, long stick and brandished it, slashing at the air and darting back and forth.

"See!" he called, "I know most of it already!"

"Hold your horses," chuckled Coll, "If you were to come against me like that, with all your pouncing and bouncing, I would have chopped you into bits by now."

Coll went out to join Taran and picked up another stick.

"Here now," he ordered, with a sooty wink, "Stand like a man."

Taran levelled his stick. While Coll shouted instructions, they set to parrying and thrusting, with much crashing, smashing and commotion. For a moment Taran was sure he had the better of Coll, but then the old man would spin away with amazing elegance and speed. Then it would be Taran who strove desperately to ward off Coll's blows.

Then all of a sudden, Coll stopped. And so did Taran, his stick paused in mid-swing. On the doorstep of the cottage stood the tall, bent figure of Dallben.

"Stop that hotch-potch directly," said Dallben, frowning at Coll, "I am surprised at you. There is serious work to be done."

"It wasn't Coll's fault, sir," Taran said quickly, "I wanted him to teach me how to sword fight."

"I did not say I was surprised at _you_," remarked Dallben, "But perhaps I should be, after all. I think you had best come with me."

Taran put down his stick and followed the 42-year-old across the farmland and into the white, thatched cottage.


	3. Hen Wen and Her Powers

**Hen Wen and Her Powers**

Taran entered Dallben's room and took a seat on a wooden bench. Dallben sat on an opposite seat and stared at the boy of 13 years of age, who had brown, messy hair and a lanky form.

"I'm sorry, sir," Taran began, "I should not have..."

"I am not angry," Dallben said, raising a hand.

_"Well you never are,"_ thought Taran in confusion.

"I am only a little sad," Dallben continued, "Time flies quickly – things always happen sooner than one expects. And yet it troubles me. I fear the Horned King may have returned to Britain to make his next move."

"I know all about the Horned King," said Taran, "He is the leader of the Death Lord's armies. The Death Lord is Arawn, his evil queen Achren, and the Horned King their warlord."

"And if the Horned King has returned, God help us," said Dallben gravely, "If he has returned then that means that Arawn and Achren shall soon return as well. Over a century ago, Achren and Arawn were sealed in the Stars of Prydain by King Reyas. But they communicated to one of their disciples to keep strong their presence on this Earth."

"And that disciple is the Horned King – I know that, Dallben! You taught me that," said Taran, "But why are you re-telling me?"

"Because that knowledge came from the Book of Three."

"I know about that too! You read it to me when I was little, and nowadays I read it myself! There are a lot of good stories and legends in there."

"Aye, but there's a secret that me and Coll have been keeping from you, lad. Well actually, two secrets."

"What is it, Dallben?" asked Taran, his curiosity piqued.

"One, those stories and legends in the Book of Three are actually prophecies," said Dallben, "Two, you know Hen Wen, right?"

"Our pig, right?"

"Not just any pig, lad. She is an oracle – she can show us glimpses of the future and the past – which can help our understanding of the present. She is also immortal – until Arawn the Death Lord is defeated."

And with that, Dallben whistled for Hen Wen to come over. He brought a bowl of water and placed it next to Hen Wen. She dipped her nose in it, and the water started to swirl. Dallben started his mystical chant which made Hen Wen trigger her powers.

"Hen Wen, from you I do beseech  
>knowledge that lies beyond my reach.<br>Troubled thoughts weigh on your heart,  
>pray you now those thoughts impart."<p>

The water started to glow golden. Images formed at the centre of the bowl. Dallben gave a horrified gasp.

"He is coming! The Horned King is on his way!"

"What should I do? Can I fight him Dallben?" asked Taran eagerly.

"Do not be so reckless, boy!" Dallben said, "You will take Hen Wen and evacuate."

"But where will I go?!" asked Taran in panic. Dallben stood up straight as a broom (which was something that Taran had never seen before).

"Gwydion, High King Gwydion. I've told of him to you, Taran," said Dallben, "Take Hen Wen and seek refuge in his castle. He always welcomes visitors."

Dallben handed Taran a rucksack and started to prepare provisions for him.

"You taught me well about High King Gwydion, sir," said Taran, "He wasn't originally the High King – that was his brother-in-law, Geraint. Geraint was the husband of Gwydion's older sister, High Queen Angharad. A daughter was born to them – their daughter was Princess Eilonwy. But a few days after Eilonwy's birth, she and her mother were murdered while her father was away fighting in a Crusader attack. Afterwards, Geraint went in search of his wife and baby daughter – and no one has seen him since. Also, no one has found the killer – or killers – to this day."

"Great memory lad, but now you must hurry!" urged Dallben, packing up the last of the supplies for Taran.

"Don't worry, Dallben! I won't let you down, sir!" Taran said, rushing with Hen Wen out the door.

"I know you won't," said Dallben sadly, watching as his apprentice left the cottage to make the journey to Gwydion's palace.


	4. Beyond Caer Dallben

**Beyond Caer Dallben**

"Coll! What's going to happen to you and Dallben?" called Taran as he rushed past Coll, "The Horned King is on his way!"

"Me and Dallben are going to stay and fight!" replied Coll, sharpening his old sword and putting on his old armour, "We will hold him off for as long as we can! Now go, child!"

"Goodbye then, Coll. And good luck," said Taran plaintively, still running beside Hen Wen.

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><p>After about half an hour of light jogging, Taran stopped to drink from a small stream. Suddenly, Hen Wen snorted loudly and dashed off.<p>

"Hen Wen! Hen Wen! Come back!" yelled Taran, getting back up on his feet and running after her. But as fast as he sprinted, Hen Wen was faster. She darted left and right and all around Taran. Then she disappeared into the thick bushes of the forest.

"Oh no!" groaned Taran. After a few minutes of searching endlessly, he heard snorting.

"Hen, is that you?" called Taran, peering inside a bush.

"NO! IT'S ME!" a cheerful voice shouted. A ball of fur landed on top of Taran, sending him sprawling. Then the furball dug into Taran's rucksack, pulling out an apple.

"Oh what a nice, sweet, juicy apple!" the creature exclaimed happily, licking its lips, "Oh, thank you so much, Great Prince!"

The creature bounced along, humming a little tune, joyful at having found his next meal.

"Oi! No you don't! I didn't give you that apple! You stole it!" said Taran scornfully. Taran took out his small dagger and waved it around threateningly.

"If you don't give it back, things are going to get ugly!" he warned. The creature stopped suddenly and gloomily handed back the apple. Afterwards, the creature backed off fearfully and started to whimper.

"Poor, miserable Gurgi deserves fierce whackings and smackings on his poor tender head! Always left with no munchings and no crunchings!" sobbed the creature.

"Oh stop that sniveling!" snapped Taran, sheathing his blade, "I was just bluffing!"

Gurgi, who was a creature that looked like a cross between a terrier and a badger, now proceeded to hug Taran's leg.

"Forgive poor Gurgi!"

"Oh shut up! Shut up already! I've got more urgent things to attend to! Anyways, if you want to be useful, have you seen a pig?"

"Oh no, Gurgi not seen a piggy," Gurgi replied. Frustrated, Taran facepalmed and sighed.

"Well if you want to come with me, you may," he finally said. Gurgi nodded fiercely.

"Ooh, yes, yes, Great Prince! Gurgi like that very much!"

And with that, Gurgi bounced on ahead, humming his tune from before.

"Agh, God give me strength," groaned Taran.


	5. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Hello loyal readers. To me, it's amazing that my story has garnered so much interest. But now I must ask a huge favor of you.

I am wondering whether or not I should make my story closer to the book series, or if I should make my own original story.

So now I'm going to ask you that question through a poll on my profile.

Should I follow the books closely, or should I make an original story? Put your answer on the poll.

**IMPORTANT:** If the results say that I should make an original story, I will be fine writing it by myself. BUT if the results say I should stick closer to the books, I'll need a few volunteers to help me re-write my story… and that means I'll have to spoil the story for those who volunteer.

Thank you, my loyal readers, for reading my story and taking the time to read this author's note.

Yours sincerely,  
>Transformers 0<p> 


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